The Knight and the Dove Read Online Free Page B

herself to crawl from the bushes to check on the men.
    “Oh, Father God,” Megan cried pitifully as she knelt beside Hubert and then the others. She asked God to give her strength and wisdom, but she didn’t know when anything had so horrifed her. They had died protecting her. The thought so overwhelmed her that after just a few minutes she crawled back into the bushes and rewrapped herself in the blanket, still shivering so violently that she had to clamp her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering.
    Megan didn’t know when she slept, but when slumber claimed her at last she dreamed that her mother was forced to bury these men and explain to their families why they were gone.

     
    Megan heard the voices, but thinking she was still dreaming did not move. Not until a hand grasped her ankle, which protruded from the bush, did she let out a muffled scream and scramble further into the shrubs, twigs, and leaves scratching her face and hands.
    “Well, one of ’em’s alive, no mistake.”
    “A man?”
    “Don’t rightly think it is.”
    Megan heard more movement. The bushes parted, and a large, bearded face regarded her from without. It was fully light, but Megan held herself stiffly inside the foliage, hoping somehow they wouldn’t see her and would leave.
    “You can come out, miss. Not a one of us will harm you.”
    Megan licked her lips, undecided. It was hard to see past the branches and leaves, but she thought she detected a gleam of compassion in the man’s eyes. He backed away a moment later, and Megan came slowly out the side, figuring it would put her in a position to run if there were danger.
    “Coo,” one of the men breathed as soon as she emerged. “Would you look at that ’air.”
    Megan’s eyes searched their faces and immediately recognized them as a group of peddlers. She also saw that there was not a female among them. The men were all staring at her as if they’d never seen a woman before. Even through the dirt on her dress and brambles in her hair, the fact that she was a lady came shouting through.
    “Are you hurt?” the bearded man asked, his soft voice seeming loud in the hushed circle.
    Megan shook her head with unconscious elegance. She spoke then, and any doubts they might have had concerning her lineage dissolved with the cultured sound of her voice.
    “We were attacked. My men fought hard, but they died protecting me.” Megan’s voice caught. Tears came to her eyes but did not fall.
    “We’ve some bread and cheese here, miss. Would you care to eat?” This came from the bearded man, and although Megan was thankful for his kindness, she couldn’t eat a bite.
    “Can you tell us where you was headed?” asked a man so taken with the russet red of her hair that he wanted to touch it. Yet his voice and manners were respectful.
    “Hawkings Crest,” Megan told them. “I don’t know how close I am, so I’m not sure if I should try to go home or head on.”
    “Home?” Again, the bearded man spoke.
    “Stone Lake.”
    He nodded, smiling slightly. “It’s a piece back to Stone Lake, and we’re going directly to the Crest if you’d care to ride.”
    Megan was so relieved she could have wept. The men might have been surprised to know she had ridden in many a peddler’s cart, but never before had she felt that one had been sent by God.
    An hour later they were well down the road, Megan atop the cart sitting comfortably on a pile of rugs. They had pressed food upon her and she had finally eaten, but now the night was catching up with her. Megan couldn’t stop the tears that poured down her cheeks. They were partly from exhaustion and partly from the loss of her father’s brave men. Within another hundred yards, she was asleep.

Four
    H AWKINGS C REST
    “N OW GET BACK TO WORK !”
    The young woman who had been shouted at did as she was told, but not before she flipped her hair over her shoulder in contempt and glared at her uncle. The older man stood watching her a moment, his